Wear My Clothes
by syriala
Summary: Written for this prompt on Tumblr: "Is that my shirt?" for ironfalcon please. This goes with my other story, Give Me Comfort, since it has the same prompt. This takes place after Afghanistan.


Sam wasn't there when Tony exited the plane on Rhodey's side.

It shouldn't be a big surprise, no one except Rhodey knew after all, but it still hurt to not see him there.

Rhodey had told him that Sam and the Falcon squad had been on mission after mission since Tony went missing. There hadn't been any leave for him and so Tony should have expected this.

But he was emotionally wrung out, his body hurt like hell everywhere, and it would have soothed a lot of these pains to see his husband waiting for him.

Instead Tony gritted his teeth, put up a strong front and pushed through the press conference.

Obie's disdain was a physical thing at his side and Tony squirmed under his touch, glad to get into the car and away from him.

When he entered his house, Jarvis was there to greet him, along with thousand unanswered messages, and Tony felt tired and hollow, being greeted by this virtually empty house.

He quickly went into his workshop, to greet the bots who were visibly delighted to see him, but he was too tired and shaky to get started on his new idea for a suit right away.

So instead he went to bed, curled up on the too soft mattress, and fell into nightmares.

When he woke up he believed he was still in the cave, still with the Ten Rings and he trashed violently, reaching for his Arc reactor to check that it was still there.

He only calmed down when Jarvis told him the date and weather and then he immediately went to his workshop. He needed to get the new suit done as quickly as possible.

When he went to bed this night, he didn't expect anything else but nightmares and when he woke up it was with a strangled cry. There was an arm thrown around his middle and Tony scrambled to get away from the person behind him.

"Tony, it's me, it's alright, you're safe," a very well known voice said and Tony couldn't help the sob that escaped him.

"You're back," he pressed out and Sam immediately pulled him into his arms.

"I am. God, I am, Tony. I am so sorry I wasn't there, I am so sorry. But now I'm here, and it's alright," Sam soothingly told him, stroking a hand over his back and burying the other in Tony's hair to keep him close.

Tony fell asleep to the familiar scent of Sam while he kept murmuring nonsense into his hair.

When Tony woke up again it was slower, he felt safe, which he couldn't remember ever feeling.

But there was Sam's body right in front of him, keeping him close and warm and his scent filled Tony's nose and Tony snuggled as close as he could.

"I got you now," Sam told him and Tony clung to him even harder.

"Don't leave again," Tony chocked out and Sam stiffened.

"I can't promise that, Tony, I can't, you know that," Sam regretfully told him and Tony knew this, he really did, but right now Sam leaving seemed like the worst possible thing.

"Leave me a shirt when you go," Tony said into Sam's neck and Sam weakly chuckled.

"It won't happen for two weeks, Tones," Sam told him and Tony was so relieved to hear that.

"Good," he mumbled and then promptly fell asleep again.

Sam really stayed for two weeks and Tony spent the whole time wearing Sam's shirts.

No matter if Sam just threw one into the hamper or if he only wore it for a few hours, Tony would snatch it up and discard his own clothes in favour of Sam's.

Sam noticed, it was hard not to, but he didn't call Tony out on it. Instead he laid his worn shirts out for him, without comment.

Tony never left Sam's side for long, trying to get as much out of these two weeks as he could, and Sam did the same.

They didn't talk much, Sam never asked about his time in Afghanistan and never questioned Tony's work in the shop, but he also never left him alone for long. They both needed this, to make sure that they were alright.

Every night Tony would press close to Sam, bury his face in his neck and clinging to him as if his life depended on it, and Sam held him just as close.

When it was time for Sam to leave again, he playfully tugged at the shirt Tony was wearing.

"Is that my shirt?" he asked, even though he damn well knew it was.

"Yes," Tony mumbled and Sam smiled.

"Good. I left some for you in our bedroom. It should tie you over for a while."

Tears sprang to Tony's eyes, unbidden, and he hurriedly blinked to get rid of them, but Sam already noticed.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised, while he pulled Tony in close with a hand to the back of Tony's head.

"It's not fast enough," Tony breathed into his neck and he felt Sam nodding against his head.

"I know. But it's the best I can do."

"I know that," Tony reassured Sam. "Be safe," he told Sam and Sam kissed his head.

"You too. Don't do anything stupid," he said and Tony chuckled.

"Can't promise that. You know what I get up to when you're not here."

"That's what's worrying me," Sam admitted and Tony pulled away.

"I promise to try my best, how is that?"

"Given it's you, I'd say it's the best I can hope for," Sam said and gently kissed him.

"I'm gonna miss you," he said against Tony's lips.

"Gonna miss you too."

"I'll bring new shirts when I come back," Sam promised him and after a few more kisses he finally had to leave.

When Sam was out of sight, Tony immediately went back into their bedroom and curled up on Sam's side, face buried in his pillow. It still smelled like him and Tony drifted off to that.


End file.
